Bells above City Hall ring out a Minneapolis musical tradition

Editor's note: Dan Wascoe, a retired Star Tribune reporter and columnist, became a volunteer bell player at Minneapolis City Hall in 2004 and since then has performed 116 concerts.

High in the 345-foot clock tower that sprouts above Minneapolis City Hall — even higher than its four huge clock faces — 15 bells hang solidly from wooden beams in an open-air belfry. Four times an hour, unseen from the street, they automatically chime the time over noisy downtown.

But on more than 50 concert days a year, a solitary player, sitting 13 stories below in the building's monumental atrium, pecks out melodies on a tiny wooden keyboard.

No climbing 242 steps, no pulling ropes à la Quasimodo, no candles or gloves as in the old days, no battling the belfry's bugs and breezes.

But if today's players are more comfortable sitting on a thinly cushioned wooden bench, they still face a musical challenge. Their instrument, connected electronically to the bells high overhead, has 24 keys. Fifteen connect to a corresponding bell. The others connect to nothing.

Most songs consist of more notes, more sharps and flats, than there are bells.

That means each player on the roster of 15 volunteers must remember which keys work and which don't.

The easiest solution? Choose songs that require no more notes than the available bells. That may require transposing a melody to a hospitable musical key.

Other workarounds require more concentration.

For example, the note for a missing bell in one octave might be available in a higher or lower octave; a player can substitute it. Performers also can alter a melody in a way that disguises the missing note. By playing a chord that includes a missing bell, a listener can be deceived into hearing the absent note. This harmonic "ghost note" can fool the ear in the way a trompe l'oeil painting tricks a viewer's eye into seeing a perspective that does not exist.

Compensating for such difficulties is the grandly majestic City Hall setting where the players perform.

Five stories above the atrium, a skylight can funnel sunshine to the ground floor.

A sweeping marble staircase and balustrade add dignity to the space.

On the walls, backlit stained-glass panels impart an almost spiritual aura. Almost. Noise from busy foot traffic, laughter, conversation and the rolling thunder of janitors wheeling trash carts all bounce loudly off stone walls and floors.

To the left of the little keyboard looms a hulking marble statue of the Father of Waters whose shiny big toe gets burnished by visitors seeking good luck.

To the right, a bunkerlike information desk surrounds a uniformed police officer and a bank of TV security monitors. An electronic cable links the keyboard to a dedicated socket inside that bunker, conveying pulses to the bells.

Press a key, and a small piston strikes the inside of the corresponding bell.

The tiny keyboard holds an even tinier speaker that is wired to a microphone in the belfry. Without it, players could not hear what they're playing because City Hall's thick granite walls block most outside sounds.

Most musicians who play the bells have piano training and can read printed music. A few play by ear. All can expect to field questions from curious listeners, sometimes in the middle of a song:

"Do you pull ropes to make the bells ring?"

"Can you play [insert song title of your choice]?"

"Where's the restroom?"

The answers: "No," "Maybe," and "Around the corner to the left."

Most enjoy chatting with people who drop by during the concerts, which are scheduled during Friday lunch hours and occasional Sunday afternoons during the summer and on holidays and special occasions the rest of the year.

"People come in and smile and wave," volunteer Joan Sjogren said. "They also want to know how it all works. Some have taken my picture, and it is just fun. Sometimes there is a request."

Rarely, the request is discordant.

"A few years ago, I think, it was Holy Week and we were playing every day," Sjogren said. "The phone rings at the information desk. The officer answered it and heard some guy ranting on about the noise. He said, 'I'm just sitting on my balcony trying to enjoy my beer [with] all this clanging and banging noise. Is it ever going to stop?' He called a couple more times complaining. Anyway, the officer and I still laugh about it."

For volunteer Cheryl Johnson, playing the bells the past 10 years fulfills a childhood ambition.

"When I was growing up in the 1950s and '60s, my parents owned a business on 9th [Street] and Nicollet [Avenue]. One Easter Sunday, we were having lunch downtown, and someone was playing 'Easter Parade,' by Irving Berlin [on the bells]. I thought it was magical."

Years later she read a newspaper notice that new bell players were welcome. "I thought, 'Sign me up.'"

The newest bells recruit is Tina Persson, who has performed on a church carillon and enjoys compiling relevant song lists for her City Hall concerts.

On a recent October Sunday, when the Vikings won in US Bank Stadium four blocks away, "I played Beethoven's Ode to Joy for the fans. … I also played 'You Gotta Be a Football Hero,' by Al Sherman." And, because that day also brought the season's first snowflakes, "I played Jule Styne's iconic 'Let It Snow.' It's a pleasure to add this uplifting touch to the downtown community!"

Same goes for volunteer Pierre Girard.

"I have been able to play things like the Norwegian National Anthem to visiting Norwegians on Syttende Mai, French songs for visiting French dignitaries and some requests from people walking in from off the street," he said. "One guy said, 'I bet you don't know 'Meet Me in St. Louis, Louis.' I'll give you $5 if you can play it.' I had the music with me, played it and told the guy to give his $5 to a charity."

Girard's most exciting performance involved law enforcement.

"One time on a Friday, I was playing, and some federal guys came up to the [information] desk and said, 'This entire building is on lockdown.' They told me to continue playing and would not give the guards [at the desk] any more information. About 15 minutes later, they came back and said, 'The lockdown has expired,' and left. We never heard what that was about."

No one puts more advance planning into his bells programs than Tony Hill, who produces each year's concert schedule, arranges concerts for special events, and, for most of the past 25 years, has played from 11 p.m. to 1 a.m. on New Year's Eve.

On those nights, he typically begins with relevant popular songs, followed by repeats of "Auld Lang Syne," then patriotic songs and hymns.

He researches when copyright protection expires for songs from a particular year and groups them together in his New Year's shows. Before a new county jail was built across the street from City Hall, police often escorted offenders, typically those arrested for drunken driving, through the atrium on their way to booking in the former jail. Hill said he and officers would speculate how many detainees would be shepherded through on New Year's Eve.

"The record was eight," Hill said.

Today's volunteers follow in the venerable keystrokes of a father and son team, Hank and Edward Auld, who played the bells from 1912 to 2000. Because Edward suffered occasional epileptic seizures, his wife, Marjorie, would hold his shoulders as he played when she recognized an onset was imminent.

The first bells were installed in 1896, with additions in 1924 and 1972, and Hill said they need tuning. But the cost of removing, tuning and reinstalling the bells, ranging from 285 to 7,283 pounds, likely would approach $100,000.

For Hill, the cost would be worth it to keep the bells playing harmoniously for years, ready for special events such as the concert he played following Prince's death. Volunteer Nancy Laskaris helped choose Prince songs that could be accommodated on the bells, and Hill worked them out on a piano keyboard ahead of time.

"That was the most memorable concert," he said. The federal plaza across from City Hall "was filled with people. It was like nothing we had ever seen."

Minneapolis City Hall bell concerts

Here are the remaining 2018 concert dates and themes for the bells of Minneapolis City Hall. Concerts are noon to 1 p.m., except as noted.

• Monday, Dec. 3: Hanukkah
• Wednesday, Dec. 19: Holiday pops
• Thursday, Dec. 20: Christmas week
• Friday, Dec. 21: Christmas week
• Monday, Dec. 24: Christmas Eve (4:30 p.m.)
• Tuesday, Dec. 25: Christmas Day
• Wednesday, Dec. 26: Kwanzaa
• Monday, Dec. 31: New Year's Eve (11 p.m.-12:30 a.m.)